


Sortilege

by dewcake



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Developing Relationship, Fluff, M/M, McSpirk Holiday Fest, Mild Language, Pre-Relationship, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 01:43:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15808779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dewcake/pseuds/dewcake
Summary: They were an odd bunch. Leonard didn’t have a speck of magic in him. Spock had the knowledge and ability to teach at the best magic academies on any plane of existence but willingly worked in some small apothecary. And then there was Jim, who was practically bursting with magic but didn’t want a damn thing to do with it.





	Sortilege

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a McSpirk Holiday Fest prompt from spacefoxen: witch!Spock

When he was very young, his second-grade teacher had asked the class what they wanted to be when they grew up. Most answers were standard. A teacher, an alchemist, a diviner. And Leonard? Formally homeschooled blissfully unaware Leonard? He'd proudly proclaimed that he wanted to be a healer.

The entire class broke down in laughter. His teacher had forced a smile at him and then hastily tried to move on to the next student. That was the day where he'd learned that something was wrong with him. That society scorned people like him. People born without a spark of magic.

He didn't let it stop him.

There was more to healing than just magic after all. White magic was great for treatment. It could banish curses, purge disease from the body, and close wounds in mere seconds. But it was goddamn useless when it came to diagnosing and long-term care. People liked to pretend that things like allergies, or migraines, or disorders didn’t exist. It was the rare people like him without magic that had made the advancements in those areas.

So, he studied hard, pushed his way through school even when everyone but his parents seemed to be against him. Had a failed marriage along the way and a kid that he was glad didn't have to go through the same challenges he did when he was young. Jo was already showing signs that she'd be strong with her magic. She'd be fine. Better without him mucking everything up along the way. He couldn't bear being in Georgia any longer after that though.

He'd moved to San Francisco. Bought up an old building for the apothecary that he'd been dreaming about for as long as he could remember and set up shop.

San Francisco was better than Georgia, more open-minded, but hell if people weren't still hesitant about visiting an apothecary run by a magic-less person. 

Hiring Spock was a necessary but obvious choice. Leonard didn't know how the hell to treat Vulcans anyway. They were closed-lipped about their magic and their anatomy was so foreign to Leonard that they might as well be aliens rather than just beings from another plane of existence. In the end, was there really that much difference between the two concepts?

They got on well enough. Fought sometimes. Spock carried around a frankly obscene amount of sass when he got the broomstick-sized stick wedged out of his ass, and Leonard wasn't the type to sit back and take it. But they still got on, and after a while, could work in companionable silence like they were now.

Leonard glanced up from the book he was making notes into where Spock was standing at the counter, focused on an elixir he was making in a small pot. 

“No eyebright in that one,” Leonard interrupted.

Spock hesitated, his hands hovering near the delicate white and violet petals of the flower he’d been gingerly plucking. One eyebrow raised, he turned from the counter to meet Leonard’s eye.

“Leonard,” Spock began in that absolutely infuriating way he did when he wanted to get his way. That was happening an awful lot as of late. “Is the goal of this elixir not to alleviate Mr. Kirk’s symptoms of hay fever? Eyebright would be most effective in treating any itching or redness in his eyes.”

“And generally, I’d say go right on ahead, but this is Jim we’re talking about.” With a sigh, Leonard pulled himself off his chair, closed his book with a snap, a grabbed the bottle they kept their eyebright in to begin putting it away. “It belongs to the same family of flowers that toothwort does, and the last time Jim had something with that in it, his lips damn near swelled up to the size of a balloon. Best not chance it.”

“I see,” Spock replied, a hint of defeat in his voice. “Creating medications for Mr. Kirk is,” he hesitated, “singularly challenging.” 

Leonard snorted. “Tell me about it.” 

“It would be much more efficient to treat Mr. Kirk if he simply allowed for a minor divination ritual.”

“We both know he ain’t gonna go for that.”

Spock’s lips pursed, which was probably the closest he was ever going to get to a frown and began stirring the elixir he was working on. 

They were an odd bunch. Leonard didn’t have a speck of magic in him. Spock had the knowledge and ability to teach at the best magic academies on any plane of existence but willingly worked in some small apothecary. And then there was Jim, who was practically bursting with magic but didn’t want a damn thing to do with it. 

The chime rang above the front door and someone walked in. There was little more visible than legs and a stack of books.

“Speak of the devil,” Leonard murmured.

“Who’s the devil?” The books were plopped onto the counter, kicking up a layer of dust from their covers into the air, finally revealing who was hidden behind them. Blond hair, blue eyes, and smears of grey and brown dust all over him.

“I believe McCoy was referring to you, Mr. Kirk,” Spock supplied, apparently unbothered by the cloud of dust.

Leonard coughed and waved at the air to clear it. “You’re a menace. A damn menace. What’s all this about?”

“I brought you both a gift!”

“A gift?” Leonard shelved the eyebright into a cupboard packed full of ingredients in glass vials. 

Spock glanced at the books. “It was my understanding that you brought old spell books to us as a form of payment. Has our arrangement been altered?”

“What? No, no, that’s still the same. And for the hundredth time, Spock, you can just call me Jim.” He patted the books and winced when Leonard coughed again from the resulting poof of dust. “Sorry, Bones.”

“That is a rather gross exaggeration; however, as always, I will continue to call you such during work hours.” With that, Spock set his stirring ladle aside, and with a quick flourish of his wrist, all the dust in the air gathered together like a filthy flock of birds and shot into the nearby wastebasket. Not a single mote of dust filtered up through the air despite the forceful impact that had hit the wastebasket.

“Show off,” Leonard grunted.

Jim just grinned. For all his hesitancy around using magic himself or having it used on him, he was always enthralled to see others use it. The more mundane the task, the better.

“I am simply looking out for your wellbeing.”

Leonard rolled his eyes. “So, what’s this gift you’re going on about, kid?”

Jim's smile faltered, becoming little more than an uncertain smile as he began rocking on his heels. "It's, uh, difficult to explain. Easier to show, but Spock's right, it is work hours, and I probably should have come around close. You know, I think I'll just duck out for now and maybe come back later or tomorrow or-"

"Jim," Spock interrupted. Jim's mouth froze, caught halfway between a word as both he and Leonard stared at Spock. Hell, Leonard didn't blame Jim for the shock. If the nickname "Bones" ever left Spock's mouth, Leonard would probably collapse in a dead faint like some blushing Southern belle.

"Y-Yeah?" Jim's voice was strangled, and he cleared it roughly before trying again, "I thought- Didn't you just say that you weren't going to call me that during work hours?"

Instead of responding, Spock glanced sidelong at Leonard. "Would you find it agreeable to close up early, Leonard?"

Leonard felt the hair on his arms rise. "Don't you even dare try that on me. I'm on to you! Saying my name whenever you want to get your way."

"Perhaps I misread the situation and you would prefer to continue work and send Jim out-"

Leonard stormed past to the front door. "Pointy-eared son of a bitch," he growled, flipping the sign on the front door from open to closed. When he turned back, the corners of Spock's lips were quirked in the faintest smile. Like he'd known all along that the smallest bit of prodding would get Leonard to play along. Not that Leonard didn't want to close up early. He was curious too about what was getting Jim all nervous and rambly.

"Okay. Wow. Way to throw a guy for a loop." Jim rocked back and forth on his heels as he shoved his hands in the pocket of his coat.

"You may proceed, Jim."

Jim blew air past his lips. "Right, yeah. I wanted to, uh, show you guys something. I thought maybe we could go somewhere for dinner. I have somewhere in mind. If you were hungry." Jim cleared his throat.

Without responding, Leonard shared a glance with Spock. He was attentive, focused on both Leonard and Jim, but offered nothing in terms of an explanation. This wouldn't be the first time they'd all gone out for a bite to eat, but certainly the first Jim had ever gotten all nervous about it.

"I could eat," Leonard said finally. Spock nodded his agreement. "But what's got you all worked up?"

"Ah, well, it's just that it's a bit far."

Leonard tensed immediately.

Jim winced. "And I know you don't like teleportation circles-"

"Goddamn death traps."

"They are perfectly safe if operated correctly. There as not been an incident with legal teleportation circles in decades."

"That won't be a problem," Jim butted in. "I can teleport us there. Without a circle."

The room went silent. 

Leonard knew Jim had a lot of magic. He remembered one time where Jim had accidentally brushed his hand against Spock's. Leonard didn't know what was more surprising: that Vulcans could gasp or that just a brief telepathic connection could reveal how much magic was coursing through someone's veins. Later, Spock had admitted that he'd been rather overwhelmed by the amount of magic he felt. 

Spock was the first to break the silence. "Fascinating."

Jim's cheeks flushed, and he rubbed the back of his neck. "If you're still uncomfortable, that's fine, I get it. There're some good places around here we could go." He started to take a step back, and before he could get any further, Leonard grabbed him gently by the arm. "Stay put."

Spock walked around from behind the counter to stand with them. "I would find it agreeable to go. Leonard?"

"Stop that!" Leonard scowled. "I was already going to say yes."

He got a faint but smug smile from Spock for that. Oh, this was getting bad. Spock was going to be absolutely insufferable.

"You're sure?" Jim asked. Still nervous. 

Leonard trailed his hand down and squeezed Jim's. "Of course, kid. Like we could ever say no to you."

"You say no to me all the time."

"Only when you're doing something stupid."

Jim huffed a laugh. "Alright, alright. Both of you stand back a little bit then."

Leonard always found the way Spock used magic to be precise. It was efficient but somehow still graceful as it weaved from his fingertips. There was artistry in each decisive movement. Jim's was anything but. It was wild. Passionate as his hands flourished up and a line of bright silver-blue magic carved into the air before them. He brought his hands down, and as he did, ripped outward. The line split in two, punching a hole into the fabric of their plane of existence. Lines of blue light crackled around the gate Jim had made. Through it, clear as if Leonard was looking through a window, he could see the hints of a great oak tree. 

Jim shoved his hands back in his pockets. "I need to go last," he murmured, "To keep it open."

As always, Spock was the first to react. He only nodded, and after a quick touch to Jim's shoulder, stepped straight through the gate. It was strange to see him on the other side, looking expectantly back at Leonard. He held a hand out to him.

"Aw, hell. Can he hear me on this side?"

Jim chuckled. "Nope."

"That bastard has me wrapped around his little finger." Leonard glared at Jim. "You too, you goddamn menace."

And before Jim had the chance to reply, Leonard stepped through the gate, his fingertips touching Spock's once he was firmly on the other side. 

They were in a small clearing. Not in a forest, but in a field of golden wheat that moved as the tender wind swayed it back and forth. The oak tree he’d seen before stood in the centre. A few bright orange leaves fell from it. Despite it getting on into Fall now, the weather was not cold, and the breeze was warm. The sun still hung in the sky, though it was beginning to get low now. At the base of the tree was a few blankets laid out and what looked like a large picnic basket. 

"I must feel weird to you compared to Jim,” Leonard said as he took everything in. His hand was still in Spock’s. 

"Jim is exhilarating to touch, but I find it calming to touch you. Both are pleasant. Simply in different ways."

With a blush, Leonard finally pulled his hand away. The gate crackled sharp behind them and closed as Jim stepped through. One corner of his lips tugged up in a smile.

“You planned a picnic?” Leonard asked. 

“Oh. Yeah, I wasn’t sure if you’d both come, but I wanted to be prepared.” 

“What’s the occasion?”

“I can’t give my friends a gift?”

“Of course not,” Spock said, “However, this is a change in your usual behaviour. It is not unreasonable for Leonard to inquire as to the reason. I admit I am curious myself.”

Jim stared at them. His fidgeted with the sleeve of his shirt. “I wanted to thank you. Both of you. Can we sit first? Then I’ll explain more.”

There was no pushing Jim, both he and Spock knew that. Leonard took a seat, crisscrossing his legs to get comfortable. Spock sat on his knees, feet tucked under him and robe arranged just so. Jim just knelt on one knee as he started pulling food and drinks out of the basket. 

“I used to come here all the time, you know? We’re just a few miles from Riverside. It was quiet. There used to be a tire swing right there.” Jim pointed to a thick branch on the tree. “I liked seeing all the wheat, especially when it gets golden and tall like this. Sometimes I’d practice too. Make shapes in the clouds and things like that.” He looked distantly for a moment and then snapped back to attention. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had anyone I was close to. And neither of you ever got on my case about my magic. You always let me take my time. Let me get comfortable.”

Jim had a lot of smiles. Wild ones, nervous ones, ones that lit up his whole face. This one was shy. And so sweet that Leonard had to resist the urge to lean forward and do something about it.

“So, thank you. For everything,” Jim finished.

Spock tilted his head, watching Jim with such intent and fascination that Jim began to squirm under his gaze. 

“Did I say something wrong?” Jim asked.

“No. I am deciding something.” That intense, sharp gaze turned to Leonard. “Leonard, while I may not be able to hear you through the gate, I am proficient in lip-reading. I am pleased to know that you are ‘wrapped around my little finger’, as you said.” 

There was heat up to the tips of Leonard’s ears. “I think I liked you better when you didn’t sass me all the damn time.”

“He’s lying.” Jim swatted at Leonard’s arm. 

“I am quite aware. I believe I may have you around my little finger as well, Jim.” 

Jim laughed. His wild, glowing grin was back. He clamored forward, leaning in and ignoring how his knee mushed right into a sandwich, and pulled them both in for a tight hug. Spock’s strong hands pulled them in closer.

The warmth of these two men—these aggravating, passionate, loving men—rivalled that of the sun above them.

He wouldn’t trade it for all the magic in the world.


End file.
